


Bridges Burnt and Repaired

by ridoma (Diminuendo)



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: M/M, its just mori being dick and izuki being angry lol, nothing lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-29
Updated: 2016-10-29
Packaged: 2018-08-27 15:30:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8407018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Diminuendo/pseuds/ridoma
Summary: Izuki felt a little older, a little better and a little less attached to everything behind it. So he decided to finally remove old memories and go on with himself. Moriyama wouldn't be so nice to let that happen, though.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [issawip](https://archiveofourown.org/users/issawip/gifts).



__

“Maybe if you were a bit more mature, a little better,” was his reply.

__

He felt like he would be rooted in his spot for thousands of years. As if some lord from above decided to halt time and space all together and was gracious enough to let Izuki live in brief seconds. He felt as if the sun stopped rising, the people around him were wandering bodies, that if he curled is toes in his shoes any longer, they would crack.

__

Then he shivered.

__

He shivered because he knew this endless, boundless moment would forever be.

__

\--

_Time is fast_ , Izuki thought, looking out his window and into the grey skies. No birds, no sunlight, no rain; the sky was completely devoid of life. As usual, he put down his green tea (coffee has unnecessary sugars and black coffee does not have any benefits besides giving a headache which allows for Shun to take a long, long nap ), took a piece of omelette and pushed it into his mouth. He felt that the weather reflected his mood today, as it was only there to appease to him.

 

 

 

But, don't make a presumption just yet; Shun is a very realistic boy; he doesn't drift towards optimism in the idealistic fashion Kuroko does but also doesn't rely on pessimism to satisfy his constantly low expectations (like Kiyoshi, but don't tell anyone). Yet, it would not be wrong to say that after becoming educated in history (he takes pleasure in wasting family money, is what he tells himself, in reality he feels the cesspool of guilt slowly creating bigger tides) and witnessing the shallow problems of man, he has become cynical. Or completely jaded to the point where he'd wish for the day to pass on finally but not so fast that he would die (he isn't ready for that, yet).

 

 

 

What is the context of this scene? Why is there a lonely Japanese man sighing about the weather and tremendous amount of pathetic fallacy?

 

 

 

There is no particular reason to say, Izuki Shun has been like this for years. He has always been calm and realistic but perhaps (or definitely) the reason he is so detached is that he was always too naive to experience the unwritten perils of the world. Now that he does, he cannot process it, not the way the Akashi Seijurou does (by justifying it, that pretentious rat) or by the way Kagami does (by challenging every hardship, even if he causes it). But what's the problem? What peril? What led Izuki to believing that this world is so flawed that even the most divine being would have their wings rot off their back, causing them to fall from the heavens. The answer is this: being too spiteful and a recent fight with his close friend.

 

 

 

\--

 

 

 

"This is borderline ridiculous. How could anyone see good in this? Hyuuga? Riko, even?" Said Izuki Shun, his intense practice causing his legs to shake and his chest to struggle to push words out of his mouth. "I personally think it's hopeful at best."

 

 

 

"Izuki, I understand but they've changed. Look at what Kuroko said, he—"

 

 

 

"Kuroko is biased and so is the rest of the Generation of Miracle. They're known for their ability to, to, normalize, no, embrace their horrible decisions. They used to treat their own people just as badly and now they want to get back at the Americans?" Hyuuga is a dense, idealistic idiot, Izuki thought. He needs to understand. "Hyuuga, they're doing it for their egos."

 

 

 

Hyuuga straightened his back, "Listen, we know it. They know it. But they're our best shot at proving to the Americans that we aren't some spineless, castrated nerds. You know it and I know it, it's nationality versus nationality and I refuse to lose. I think it's safe to say that we're all going in it for selfish reasons, not just them."

 

 

 

"We? We? I'm not involved and I refuse to support them. What throws me off the most is using Kuroko as a main player. They don't have the coordination to play as a team, Hyuuga, otherwise Kuroko would be replaced. Throw in the fact they're getting specifically coached and need Manager-sama to analyze every move; I think it's utter bullshit."

 

 

 

"Izuki, try to understand what's happening. Your obstinacy isn't helping anyone."

 

 

 

"Well," he took a swift step back, "Neither is your constant worshipping of idiots. Call me when they disband."

 

 

 

"Izuki," Hyuuga grabbed Izuki's wrist as he pivoted on his heel, "Look, stop being so damn analytical. You're overthinking, just give it a chance. Besides," he lowered his voice, "It's not like they need to prove anything to you."

 

 

 

Izuki forced his wrist by the side of his thigh and scraped his teeth together. Slowly, he turned around to face Hyuuga, with inky black eyes and tightly pressed together lips.  " I just thought the situation was a bit too convenient and so is the fact that these people are suddenly so ready to defend this country. Look, overall, I do agree that what these people do are their own decisions. But, they are decisions that I have the right to critique and analyze. But, don't mind; I'm irrelevant." With that, he softened his expression (just a bit, to trick Hyuuga, really), "How is Riko?"

 

 

 

"Ah, man," Hyuuga groaned, his shoulders suddenly relaxing, "She's hellish. She keeps yelling about everything. She's even worse now that she's not coaching us anymore. By the way," he bit his lip, "She kinda isn't aware of the whole Vorpal Swords thing, well not completely. Kagetora told her some other top team from NSS was going to take them on. I don't think she'd condone the team either, knowing her. But. . ."

 

 

 

"It's irrelevant," Izuki suddenly injected, "Who cares? We're still close friends, regardless. Nothing will change. But, Momoi-san hasn't informed her yet,  either? That's strange."

 

 

 

"Nah," he waved his hand around in the air. "Riko and Momoi have been tense lately. They've just gotten in a fight, actually. Surprisingly, Momoi-san is quite stubborn and well, you know Riko. These ladies got a scary way of coping with problems, for sure."

 

 

 

Hyuuga and Izuki shuddered in unison before meeting eyes again. Izuki suddenly felt a lump grow in his head.

 

 

 

"Hyuuga," he started slowly, "things have changed a lot. I don't know if I can keep, keep the past as it is. I think I have to pave my own life and release myself. Basketball is done and gone, maybe we should all just move on?" He quickly stopped as he heard the ringing of Hyuuga'a phone.

 

 

 

But, Hyuuga didn't reply, he merely shot a shrug of his shoulders before answering his phone and walking away. He left Izuki standing under the depthless, blue sky of Japan with a million thoughts racing through his head.

 

 

 

\--

 

 

 

We come back to Izuki looking through his window, watching the same sky (now clouded). It's been a day since the confrontation and Izuki wishes he rephrased his words. His friends were all very attached to each other, saying or even suggesting letting go might have been too, too cruel? He, himself, doesn't understand what possibly could be wrong with creating your own life and living for yourself, but he doesn't agree with a lot of things.

 

 

 

He reflects back to Seirin and their progress as a team. Kagami, Kuroko and the others have recently graduated, leaving a completely new generation behind. They lost the Winter Cup, but won the Interhigh, so that was satisfactory enough. Kuroko was captain of team and a second-year named Yachira Kumosuke was vice-captain. Izuki was initially surprised hearing that a second year would be vice captain; that Kagami or even Furihata wouldn't qualify. But after seeing Yachira's gait and taciturn disposition, Izuki felt relieved. A good orator who didn't speak more than necessary and a growing player with a straight moral compass. Definitely a gem in the field of basketball and a good selection. Him and Kuroko probably did the team some good.

 

 

 

He then thought back to other teams. His mind went to Rakuzan first, the team that had left the biggest impression. Mayuzumi Chihiro became long forgotten and Akashi continued his reign as captain. Akashi was the only third year on the time and surprisingly, unlike Seirin, no one was given vice captain position. Rakuzan lost both the Interhigh and Winter Cup, but that was no surprise; the team was entirely fresh and relied on Akashi far too much.

 

 

 

Then to Kaijo, the first elite team he ever played. Kise was given the position of captain (Izuki suspects this is because Kaijo is too traditional to give captaincy to any other player, considering the fact Kise is a 'veteran player'),  and the vice captain was a gentle man named Ikuru Rai (Ikuru never made the team as a first year) who excelled in ball handling. Though, the position of captain and vice  captain no longer mattered because Kaijo managed to snag a manager. Her name was Isa (he was unaware of her real name, as she was only ever referred to as such) and according to rumours, was a former player herself but stopped because of a back injury. She probably organized the team far more than the coach himself.

 

 

 

He stopped on Kaijo for a second to pursue thoughts about the long-forgotten third years. Kasamatsu and Moriyama; those two were the third years that were the most significant. Izuki was aware that there was a Kobori, but he disappeared out of sight. Kasamatsu was becoming some kind of engineer—mechanical, chemical?—and Moriyama, well Moriyama was becoming a pharmacist, but Izuki distinctly remembers saying he wanted to go into sculpting.

 

 

 

 

 

The other teams, Toou, Shuutoku and Yosen completely left his mind. He has slight knowledge on Shuutoku, but everything else after that became irrelevant.

 

 

 

He sighed, he really had lost any interest in following basketball. No, perhaps not in the sport, but in the competitive aspect of it. To say he didn't run off to the nearest court to practice his aim would be an entire lie. But, he had recognized that need to get an education and move on, so that's what he set out to do.

 

 

 

\--

 

 

 

He was walking around with his three year old nephew when he ran into Moriyama. They bumped into each other in a cliché fashion and then awkwardly exchanged a few words. Izuki confessed in feeling uncomfortable when Moriyama intervened with a proposal:

 

 

 

"Why don't we see each other on a better occasion? One with coffee and muffins?" Moriyama bared his teeth and Izuki recognized that he had wholeheartedly matured. Although he did have an obsession with female beauty, as he grew, that trait translated to the obsession of the aesthetic of things. How he decorated his house, how he choose clothes for his niece, how he held himself; Moriyama knew the science of appealing to the human eye. If only he had matured a bit faster, Izuki thought.

 

 

 

"I don't drink coffee anymore, Moriyama-san. But," he paused, he was on the verge of accepting but, but. What about letting go and moving on? Wouldn't it be hypocritical and an act of betrayed to Hyuuga to let this go through? What about everything he preached? Was he just some attention-seeking idiot, willing to go against everything if it means being seen differently? If it means being seen as 'unique' and 'different'? He sucked in, he really needs to stop analyzing everything. He can unleash his master plan later; rejecting  Moriyama would be rude: "I would love a few muffins."

 

 

 

Moriyama kept his smile, "Amazing, why don't we exchange phone numbers? I can provide details through texting. It would be hard to recount them through memory, regardless."

 

 

 

"Of course," he smiled and handed his phone and kept his hand hovering to accept Moriyama's. Quickly and habitually, Izuki tapped his numbers onto the small screen before peering over to if Moriyama has finished. He took a bit longer than necessary, but Izuki was used to that.

 

 

 

Upon receiving his phone, he raised his eyebrows. "Oh, Moriyama, your number hasn't changed."

 

 

 

Moriyama chuckled, "Seems like you still know it, huh?"

 

 

 

Izuki faked a laugh and then decided to end the conversation. Waving goodbye, Izuki's nephew slurred out a few words of broken Japanese before deciding he wanted to be carried instead of waddling behind Izuki. Shun pressed Soshiro closed to him and began to think once more. What could Moriyama want out of a simple meeting? We're not even close friends. . . But he decided not to dwell on this matter. In fact, Moriyama and his past meant so little to him that he decided that it was not a concept worth putting his time towards.

 

 

 

He walked home with Soshiro against his shoulders, his wrapped arms wrapped tightly around the chubby baby’s body. The sky turned blue, but it wasn’t a normal blue, it was an icy, light blue that simultaneously was light and dark. There were no clouds to blanket the sky, thus exposing dancing rays of sunlight, but it was still cold. Wherever the light hit, it was never towards Izuki and when it did, it had no heat or warmth; the pillar of rays were completely void of heat. there was also a chill in the air, like it was autumn transitioning to winter. It made his cheeks tingle and fingers curl, but there was never a harsh wind that justified his shivers.

 

 

 

\--

 

 

 

Next day, Izuki never went outside. He stayed inside, in his room because he felt that he couldn’t go outside. Whenever he had a conversation with his sister or cousin, he felt an overwhelming sense of loneliness. It was as if he felt better, by himself, in the confines of his brown-walled room. His room simply revolved around himself: shut windows to censor the outside, large mirrors to prove it was only him, walls with faint scratches from his clumsiness accentuated by pictures of his foreign self from more then ten years ago with a crooked hang. There were books scattered in the closet, under his bed and mistakenly placed in his bathroom drawers, forever hiding in the crowds of toiletries. The books were mostly unsystematically chosen, some are essential books for his literature classes in high school, some are books on basketball, one specific book is a Japanese-translated American fantasy book (it really isn’t his) and the rest are broken dictionaries from the days he would persistently try to learn English. He felt comfortable in his room because it was only him. His clothes, his thoughts, his free will and ability to speak to himself. Beyond the spaces of the room was a world filled with people, a world that was not his control.

 

 

 

\--

 

 

 

When it was the time for his meeting—or the action of acquainting oneself, with Moriyama; he was mostly unexcited. He could imagine how quickly time would pass, how it would be a random meeting with no significance.

 

 

 

Izuki was right about to put on a nice shirt, because he already found a nice pair of jeans. After he was going to trickle some water on his face, count his budget for the day and then remind whoever was in the house that he was leaving and would return in, around, forty minutes. But instead of proceeding, he stopped and stared at his toes, back straight and shoulders high. He had one thought drifting through his mind:

 

 

 

The fuck is wrong with me?

 

 

 

Because he suddenly noticed it, the uncharacteristic solemnity he had about being so overly pessimistic and unhappy. Locking himself in the room, staring at the ceiling, thinking about absolutely nothing, feeling annoyed by simple meetings with rare people.

 

 

 

And it made him felt drained and tired. He realized that he was literally floating around life, like a ghost in an abandoned house. He first had the resolve to associate himself with others, then to prioritize education the most and suddenly that need for independence and carving one’s path turned to listening to the tick-tock of clocks because he felt, needed, most likely wanted, nothing else. Not only did he feel void, but he instantaneously became void, like he no longer had an identity. Like he was no one, like he—

 

 

 

He still felt extremely tired and already, a good fifteen minutes passed. He was going to run late if he didn’t hurry, he was going to make Moriyama wait for him. For a split second, he wondered about how long Moriyama would wait before leaving. He decided to put on his shirt and proceed to take his whole wallet and he merely whispered or muttered about leaving (the response and face of the person was entirely muddled; he couldn’t recall who he was talking to). He left with a warm, thick, zip up sweater with some indistinct logo on the collar.

 

 

 

He registered that he should walk very quickly, or run because he enjoyed punctuality. As he debated this, he noticed he was becoming warm. It is warm today, he thought. But it is raining, his brain responded, how could it be warm today. But it is warm; his body was stubbornly sweating and demanding for Izuki to remove his sweater and he did. But it was warm and it was raining so if Izuki took off his sweater, he would only feel the bullets of rain through his clothes.

 

 

 

He pushed that thought aside and began to run fast towards his destination instead. He knew it would be warm in the place he was heading to, or at least hoped that it would be very warm, Moriyama never would willingly chose a cold place.

 

 

 

\--

 

 

 

The place chosen was unfamiliar to Izuki, but probably because, according to Moriyama, it is new. It opened up over two months ago and the owner keeps changing the menu products. Moriyama then provided that: "They really do have nice tasting water" and went to order his food. Café au lait, some French cookie and a carrot muffin. Izuki decided to that he also wanted cookies, and ordered those as well.

 

 

 

When he his hands gently put the menu on the table, trembling for no real reason, Izuki lifted his head to meet Moriyama's eyes. Then quickly, confidently, as if it was planned out: "I've heard about your predicament."

 

 

 

"Oh." He deadpanned the word more than anything, his last meaningful conversation with Moriyama was most definitely the most painful.

 

 

 

"This has nothing to do with you, It's my decision," was his reply.

 

 

 

The smile was instantly dropped and Moriyama looked away, as if he was observing the others around him. He saw a lady with many split ends in her brown hair, a man with a green birthmark on his neck and a small box cutter sticking out of a girl's backpack.

 

 

 

"I want to be together again," he casually said, as if their last breakup, or fight hasn't happened. He said it so dreamily and childishly that Izuki felt like he needed a break from over emotional men.

 

 

 

"Oh? Really?"

 

 

 

"Yes, really."

 

 

 

"We broke up last month."

 

 

 

"Yes, I know. But a certain blond told me you were in the dumps because a certain blue hair had told him. So I thought, 'Why don't I take this opportunity to seduce Izuki and whisk him away?' but look at you. So stubborn, so emotionally protected."

 

 

 

"When you're concentrated on dropping your entire past behind and someone from that said past tries to come back, you're more emotionally hardened than you think."

 

 

 

"Ah, but what led to such. . . trauma?"

 

 

 

"An idiot ex-boyfriend and a stupid basketball team, that's exactly what. Also, self-righteousness makes me really pissed off."

 

 

 

"So that's a yes?"

 

 

 

"Shut up," he whispered while placing money on the table. "We're in public."

 

 

 

\--

 

 

 

That meeting had left Izuki stunned because after he had taken two steps forward, Moriyama loudly proclaimed he would make himself up to Izuki. It was honestly stupid and dumb, like Moriyama. Izuki couldn't help but think about how it would have been like to have a life that featured him floating in clouds and shouting out mediocre poetry, but then again, he isn't Moriyama.

 

 

 

At exactly 6:00, he received a barrage of text messages punctuated by ugly emojis for Izuki to meet Moriyama again. It was from an unknown sender and never replied to Izuki's real questions. It made him roll his eyes, probably Moriyama himself or a younger cousin. Yoshitaka has a knack for annoying everyone and it seems it's become more. . .refined over the course of a month.

 

 

 

It didn't bother him, though. Because he was going to say no multiple times and get this over with. Because he didn't miss Moriyama. Because breaking up with Moriyama isn't what put him in this awkward state, nope.

 

 

 

Izuki was much too cynical for the world.

 

\--

“Izuki! Shun! Dearest!”

The first three words that Izuki has processed was: _loud, annoying and stupid_. The clear word which made him walk out to his window and squint at the daylight was: _what?_

In all fairness, Izuki knew this would happen. He knew Moriyama’s core personality down to every fibre and to say Izuki didn’t expect this would also be a bit naïve and/or stupid. Mature or not, Moriyama is a flamboyant, young man with the upmost disregard for notions like tradition and basic social etiquette. He says what he like and if that was to bother someone, well, they could just walk ahead and proceed into their own shell.

But Izuki wasn’t someone or anyone, or a love struck Juliet, he was a grown man who had a few ideas about his future and reputation and Moriyama was not helping him. He wasn’t helping him mature, become more rational and instead was obstinate on the path of rolling around in velvet bed for the longest of hours. He turned Izuki into everything he didn’t want to be. Emotional, inconsiderate and stupid.

“Leave,” he spoke out the window. It wasn’t a shout, or even close to that. He actually chose to spoke very calmly albeit loud enough for Moriyama to hear. “You’re disturbing the country of Japan,” he added.

“But how could I leave with this broken heart of mine? I came here with the decision to sing to you in Italian love songs?” he mockingly replied before adding a sharp smirk.

“The only word you know is _ciao_ ,  Moriy—“

“Yoshitaka! You may call me Yoshitaka!”

He rolled his eyes and walked away from the window, he’s lucky his parents were gone to attend some kind of family meeting. Otherwise, they would have most likely called for police enforcement. He decided to let Moriyama in; he had mercy for the quiet, elderly couple that lived next door. Their hearing aids probably ceased to work.

As soon as Izuki even opened the door, just a little crack, Moriyama leaped through, like a giant ballerina and with glittering eyes and pressed his palms together. Noticing Izuki’s tight jaw and narrow eyes, he dropped his innocent act and stood tall, “I’m one hundred percent serious, honey.” Moriyama’s voice deepened and Izuki instantly knew that Moriyama was telling the truth.

“Honey, you’re an idiot and probably drunk, now,” he reopened the door, “You’re absolutely welcome to leave. “

\--

The second time he was literally pulled and ambushed into an alleyway by Moriyama and his one-year-old niece. Izuki thought the niece was adorable and wanted to hold her while simultaneously noting that short hair did, in fact, look good on Yoshitaka.

“What is it this time? A band full of trumpeters? Preachers from a Catholic Church? Maybe you brought an official right here to confirm our marriage?”

“No, no, dear Shun. I brought this,” he gestured to the small, chubby baby in his arms. “We all know you love babies. Small, chubby and incoherent babies.” As if one cue, his niece began talking in her own language, as if they understood her and she understood them.

“Well,” he started and held out his arms to hold the baby girl, whom he happily received, “Thank you for the baby. You may now leave. Or I probably will.” He gestured in front of him, meaning to stick his hand above Moriyama’s shoulder and instead poked his chest. Moriyama got taller.

Instantly Moriyama’s hand shot out, and kept Izuki’s palm on chest, “I always loved the feel of your little hands around my waist, y’know? I wouldn’t mind feeling it again.”

“Okay, no. Also, can we move? There are spiders everywhere.” He pressed his foot a bit harder against the ground and noticed the smell of gasoline. “Yeah, we should really move.”

Moriyama stepped aside to let Izuki pass and gestured, as if to cue him to leave. Izuki nodded and began walking out of the alleyway, Moriyama following closely behind. When Izuki did emerge out, he earned many confused glances.

Normally, walking into alleyways means more scared and distrustful looks but Moriyama was dressed so formally with a smile so charming, people couldn’t help be more confused at why two men were standing in an alleyway with a baby who was waving their chubby hands around, as they usually do.

Like two civilized human beings, they began walking on the sidewalk and Moriyama stubbornly continued.

“Another date. A romantic one. Let me show you.”

“No.”

“Shun, please, babe I’m nothing without you. Day after day I’ve been agonizing after you. My poor, young heart couldn’t possibly take this torture. Either we love together or die alone.”

“Your stupid dramatics won’t work on me, Moriyama Yoshitaka-kun. Take it to someone who would be interested.”

“Fine, then give the baby,” he pouted.

They stopped in the middle and Izuki furrowed his brows, _there it was, The Pout_.

“No,” he replied and kept walking forward, shocking Moriyama momentarily, causing him to rush after him.

“A date.”

“Stop following me.”

“Then a love-dovey, oeey-gooey, mushy-wushy date!”

He stopped to think about the offer. It was simply one date and if Izuki agreed, Moriyama would leave him alone. He was also too mature, too disinterested to like Moriyama in a romantic way. Plus, he could get free food as he always loved.

“Fine.”

At that moment, the angel on Izuki’s shoulder widened its eyes and said: “Oops.”

**Author's Note:**

> HBD [SIDRAAAAA](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Siduki/works) my LOVE <3333  
> ITs been two good years together and youve grown so much as a human being and writer! I hope we can continue to be friends for the upcoming years, same ships or not! 
> 
> p.s: i was kinda confused in the middle of writing this bc i love making characters super mean and izuki was like?? he had no moral compass tbh the man was dropping friends left and right. so i hope this new take in morizuki (a universe where moriyama's immaturity both broke them up and brought them together) is nice.
> 
> p.p.s: can u tell i dont trust the g.o.m lead their respective teams? also i luv making ocs and will take any opportunity to do so.


End file.
